Bruised
by Athena Writer 24601
Summary: Natasha and Tony are captured on a mission, and it's up to them to keep each other alive while facing their worst fears.
1. Chapter 1

Bruised Chapter One

"Leave them here."

Tony Stark felt his body being slammed down on the floor. He heard someone else's moan of pain (though in his disoriented state, it could very well have been his own) and felt another body slam next to his. He didn't open his eyes; he found closing them helped block out some of the pain. He lay listening as a door shut and the cold room was silent.

After what seemed like an eternity, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him. Dim but somehow harsh lights hung from the cement, glaring at him like angry animals. He could not remember why he was here or what had happened in the last day. His head pounded violently, as if Thor had spent the day hitting it with his hammer. His leg stung and his ribs hurt. He realized his hands were bound tightly and scowled, undoing them slowly.

Another painful groan startled him, and he realized it hadn't been him. With great effort, Tony sat up and gasped at the person next to him.

"Natasha?" he whispered. She was deathly pale and barely moving, her face bloody and gaunt. There was a cut near her temple, and her side was bleeding openly onto the floor. She was thoroughly bruised and abused-looking, her ankle twisted at a painful-looking angle and her breathing startlingly shallow.

"Shit," Tony muttered, prying the tight ropes from around her bruised wrists. "Please don't die on me. Barton will kill me if you die."

He'd already had too many people die on him. He'd actually become more and more fond of Natasha since they became a team, since the battle. He cared about her.

"Natasha." He nudged her gently.

Her eyes flicked open wearily. "Tony? W-"

"I don't know. I can't really remember. But I'm glad you're okay."

She nodded. "Hopefully I'm fine."

"Can you sit up?" he asked.

"I think."

Tony gripped her arms and helped her into a sitting position. She went paler than usual, the effort dizzying her. He leaned her against the wall gently and ripped part of his shirt off, pressing it to the wound on her side.

"Where do you think this is?" she asked.

"It's cold. Russia, maybe? Here, wrap this around your head, you're temple's bleeding." Tony instructed.

She flinched. "I sure hope not."

"You don't like it? Aren't you from Russia?"

Natasha shrugged. "It brings back bad memories. And people."

"If we're actually in Russia, at least you can translate," he offered.

"I guess." She shivered as he leaned next to her. "I hate the cold. Isn't it ironic? Everyone expects me to be used to it. I am, but I've still always hated cold weather."

"Very ironic." He said, shifting on the uncomfortably hard floor, making her wince as he bumped into her. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Natasha said, her teeth gritted. She was starting to get dizzy, the pain in her side only worsening as Tony attempted to staunch the blood flow. His beat-up looking face was swirling in and out of view.

"Whoah," he gripped her arm. "You have to stay awake, okay?"

Natasha nodded weakly, biting her lip and willing herself not to black out. There was silence for a while as they sat next to each other, her staring off into nowhere and him studying her to ensure she didn't pass out.

Footsteps from out in the hallway startled them. The door slammed open and a tall, disturbing-looking man walked in, followed by several guards. He had a violent scar across his face, his black eyes carrying a possessed look as he looked at them over his uniform that deemed him a commander of some sort by his medals. He grinned in a sick way, speaking in a strong accent. "Ah, Natalia, you're awake. Wonderful."

Natasha flinched and scowled at him. "What do you want?"

"Oh, it's not about what I want. It's what HYDRA wants. We're shipping you to them tomorrow. As long as we get the money, nobody cares what they do with you."

Tony saw Natasha pale visibly. She did not respond, choosing to stare past the man. Did she know him? Tony couldn't tell.

"But," the man continued in his heavily accented voice, which Tony deemed to most likely be Russian or German, "we can use you while you're here. Get some...information out of you. We can accomplish much in ten hours."

He wanted to shiver at the way the man said this. Did SHIELD know where they were? Would they ever escape? What did HYDRA have in store for them?

The man snapped something to the guards in another language. It must have been Russian, because Natasha gripped Tony's arm in fear and muttered in the same-sounding language as two men grabbed her. "Nyet, nyet!" No, no.

She was weak, but she wasn't going without a fight. Who knew what would happen if she and Tony were seperated?

Natasha crouched down and knocked one guard's feet out from under him, planting a kick in his gut. She flipped the other guard over, throwing his body to the floor with enough force to shatter his spine. As she turned, the commander slammed his gun into the side of her head and she crumpled to the floor.

"Natasha!" he shouted, struggling against the guards who held him back as the commander kicked her in the side harshly. Her head was bleeding freshly, worse than before, and her eyes were dazed and unfocused. Tony had a bad feeling she had a concussion.

"Get up," he spat. The guards hauled her to her feet, and he punched her in the stomach, making her double over. "You pathetic defect. You're a disgrace to your country."

Tony could see the pain in her eyes, and it wasn't necessarily physical. He knew she'd had a rough past-they all did-but her especially. He could tell she was still guilty.

Natasha spit in his face, and he slapped her so hard she couldn't see straight. "Take her away." The commander growled.

She was dragged out the door, and the commander followed, turning before he shut the door. "Good day, Mr. Stark. If your friend survives, she'll be back in a few hours."

They must have been in the room next to him, because he could hear yelling in Russian, and Natasha's voice answering. He winced at the sound of something hitting flesh. What the hell did this place want with them?

He had no weapons on him, obviously. No technology he could use to contact SHIELD. No armor to protect himself. Just his dirty, now-torn and slightly bloody t-shirt and fortunately intact pants. He had no idea what had happened to his suit-had it fallen into enemy hands? Or was it safe with SHIELD? His suit with the Russians could end very badly. Was that what they wanted from him?

Natasha had been in her field suit, so most likely they'd been in battle or on a mission when they were captured. What would become of them? There had to be a way to reach SHIELD, and they were undoubtedly looking for him and Natasha. Maybe he could steal a transmitter, somehow.

They had to escape before they were sent to HYDRA, which was unquestionably worse than anything this place could hold for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, everybody!**

**I'm sorry for the long wait; I've been busy directing and producing a play I wrote for theatre at my school (it made all the teachers cry) and I've just been cast as Annie Sullivan in the Miracle Worker! (It's the play about Helen Keller, and Annie is the teacher and the lead:) **

**Enough of my excuses. I'm really sorry! But thank you for everybody who reviewed, favorited and followed; it means a lot! **

**Just a note; I am an Avengers nerd, but I haven't read many Marvel comics. I kind of do my own version of Nat's past and the Red Room, so I apologize, as it may be inaccurate. **

**Please review! This chapter contains some non-graphic torture and mild language:D **

Bruised Chapter Two

Natasha gasped in air as her head broke the surface of the ice-cold water. She nearly choked on the oxygen and gagged, trying to breathe as much as possible. Her wet hair hung in her face and she squinted, trying to make out the men standing around her. But before she could get a good look, the man behind her forced her head under again.

She struggled, as usual; it may not have done much good, but she wasn't going to simply comply. This earned her a harsh blow to the back of the head. She was still dizzy and out of it from when the commander attacked her in her and Tony's cell. Her head was bleeding into the water they were dunking her head into, and her limbs were sore from the guards hitting her. They wanted information about SHIELD-typical of other agencies. If this place was an agency, because she still had no damn idea and thinking was getting difficult.

Natasha screamed and thrashed. She was out of breath; it was always a horrible, panicky feeling. She unintentionally inhaled water and was left with black spots clouding her limited vision. Were they going to kill her? No, they needed information. And they used water, because they knew she hated it.

Just when she was about to black out, her head was yanked up and she inhaled, coughing in the air desperately. Someone, presumably the commander though she couldn't actually tell because she was so dizzy, slapped her across the face, screaming in Russian at her.

They wanted secrets. Locations, names, prisoners. But they weren't going to get them, not from her. She'd been trained to resist interrogation, to not break, to stay silent because it infuriated the enemy. But now it seemed like they knew all her fears. They might be getting to her.

Natasha tried to concentrate through the furious, screaming man who was spitting profanities at her in between blows, but it was hard. The room kept tilting and her thoughts scattered. Her body ached all over; her ankle throbbed, her head was bleeding and pounding, and her side felt like hell. Her breaths were ragged-even she could hear how much effort each one took. She wanted to scream because she couldn't organize her thoughts; she must have a concussion, and she absolutely hated dealing with them. They made everything much more complicated. That bastard just had to hit her with that gun.

"You sicken me," the commander snarled, returning to heavily accented English, most likely so Tony could hear and understand from nearby. The room they were in was big, but even in her disoriented state she knew the guards hadn't dragged her far from the cell. "You betrayed your own country, just because you were too selfish to just do your job. You wanted to be normal, to have actual feelings, so you broke away from the Red Room and joined SHIELD. Let me tell you, Natalia Romanova, you still haven't come anywhere close to wiping away that red on your ledger."

Natasha bit her lip, staring directly at him. He was waiting for a response, waiting to know when he had truly gotten under her skin, but she couldn't break now.

"You have killed so many innocents. That is what upsets you, yes? That you killed so many for no reason and failed to save people you could have. The hospital fire?"

No. No, he didn't just bring that up. Natasha flinched involuntarily, and he grinned.

"So many were dead, Natalia, because of silly you. Sick elderly and ill little children...and you? You ran away like the coward you are and left them to their demise." The commander leaned in closer, knowing he was getting to her. "They burned to ashes. Ah, much like your parents after the Red Room took you and turned you against them. They screamed for you, their little Natalia, as they burned. But you were the one with the matches, no?"

Natasha coughed some blood and spit in his face. She scowled at him, clenching her fists to keep herself from shaking. How did he know all of this? Where the hell was he getting his information from? These were her deepest, darkest secrets that nobody except for Clint and members of the Red Room knew.

Then it clicked. She realized why the man had seemed familiar to her. The commander had been a guard at the Red Room, one who beat girls into submission and abused them until they never stepped out of line again. He had always picked on her, especially. She had almost not recognized him, because through the brainwashing he had almost been erased. But now that she remembered him, all the memories came flooding back with so much force she cringed.

Natasha remembered everything. She could recall the day one of the girls tripped during a training exercise and he beat her black and blue with her weights she'd been lifting. She remembered the day one of their enemies broke into their training facility, attempting to liberate the girls imprisoned and brainwashed there. The most clear, however, was the day he got the scar on his face during a fight with another officer. The man who gave him the scar was found dead the next day.

This man knew all her secrets. He was the one who would punish her in horrible ways and make her train until she passed out. He was the most likely to be able to break through her exterior and bring the Black Widow crumbling down.

Her eyes widened as he smiled sickly. "Little Natalia, such a naughty girl. You must be punished."

She shivered. These were the exact words he used to say before he would punish her.

He nodded to the guards, and their fingers dug into her bruised arms and started dragging her-she thought towards the door, but they turned towards something...

A water tank.

Natasha thrashed. "No!" she screamed. "Nyet! Pozhaluysta!" It was like she was a little girl again, being disciplined for not working hard enough. Her worst nightmare. The Red Room used to love half-drowning her.

Someone hit her, and her vision went black for a few precious seconds. She felt herself being lifted up and had just enough time to scream Tony's name before she fell into the ice cold water and heard the top of the tank close.

Natasha panicked, like she always did. This was worse than having her head dunked; she had the horrific knowledge that she couldn't escape. She was locked in here with gallons of freezing water and would probably be in it for God knows how long.

She was crying, even underwater, banging on the sides of the metal tank. It wasn't see-through; it was solid material and she was in complete darkness. It was just her and her worst nightmare.

She choked; once, twice, until she had no breath left and was close to a mental breakdown. She felt like the innocent child again; hopeless, alone, and utterly helpless.

Was this the end of her?

Natasha didn't want to drown. She wanted to keep living. She couldn't leave Tony all alone here, where they'd no doubt do unspeakable things to him and then send him to Hydra...where he'd be lucky if they just killed him. No, she had to escape and find some way to contact SHIELD, if they weren't already looking for them.

She shrieked, hardly a sound coming out from underwater. She felt her eyes grow heavy as her lungs screamed for oxygen, feeling like they were trying to rip through her skin and break out of the tank. Her legs and arms slowed down their movements, and she was about to succumb to the blackness when she heard the lid open.

Light flooded the water like a miracle, and she felt the rough hands drag her out and throw her to the ground. She sputtered and coughed for minutes, trying to breathe normally and fully regain consciousness as she lay brokenly on the concrete floor.

"We're done with you for now," the commander growled, then turned to the guards. "Take her back to Mr. Stark. Give them some time to rest up. They will need their strength." He smiled again, the scar stretching gruesomely as the motioned for them to leave.

As they passed by a metal table and one of the guards let go of her arm to insert the key, she somehow noticed a few radio transmitters through her disorientation. She tried to think clearly. She knew the code for SHIELD, she could contact them...

With barely any movement, she snatched one with a shaking hand and quickly hid it in a pocket of her suit, praying the water wouldn't damage it. Then the guard, seconds later, grabbed her arm again and yanked her out.

Natasha was deposited on the floor of the cell, still coughing violently, soaking wet and bleeding. She curled into a miserable ball, shaking from the cold, tears streaming down her face. She didn't want to admit it, but she was awfully shaken.

"N...Natasha?" Tony asked. "Nat!"

"I'm fine, Tony," she whispered. She felt him sit next to her and gently brush the hair out of her face, peering at her and looking extremely freaked out.

He sighed. "Like hell, you're not. What'd they do to you? Why are you wet?"

She took a shaky breath, then broke into coughs again. "They know I'm afraid of water."

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Nat, I-"

"Not your fault, Stark," she cut in.

He let out another heavy sigh. "Whatever. Come on, you're worse than before. We need to keep you warm."

As carefully as he could, he helped her up and pulled her close to him, ignoring the water that dripped onto his clothes. He could feel how hard she was shaking, and it worried him. Her eyes were unfocused and dilated, and whenever he tried to talk with her, she broke off and tried to sort her thoughts out. Her concussion was going to get progressively worse if this water torture was kept up.

They had to get out of here, somehow. Natasha wasn't in great shape, but SHIELD couldn't just fly into a Russian base and take over it. Who knew how many soldiers and fighting agents they had here? SHIELD would lose too many. If they were going to get away they would need a pickup point.

Natasha coughed again, and Tony tightened his grip on her. It was damn freezing in here, for God's sake. If they didn't make it warmer they would probably freeze to death before they could even be shipped to Hydra.

It would be fortunate.

"Well," Tony said, trying to lighten the mood, "It didn't sound like they got any information out of you."

Natasha winced. "You heard all that?"

"Yeah...sorry. I kinda know all about you now." Tony admitted sheepishly.

"It's...fine."

There was a long silence before he spoke again. "It seemed like they got to you a little bit."

"I don't want to talk about it, Tony."

"Okay. Sorry." He shifted carefully to lean against the wall behind him. "We need a way out."

Natasha grinned and extracted her stolen radio from her pocket. "Got it."

Tony's eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. "Natasha, you're freaking amazing."

"I know," she said weakly, handing it to him. "We'll radio for them and break out somehow, meet them somewhere..."

Tony switched the transmitter on. "Okay, what's the SHIELD code?"

She recited it to him, the code having been drilled into her head for several years now. They waited with suspended hope, praying somebody would pick up. Finally, it crackled to life and Maria Hill's voice quietly came from it.

"Agent Romanoff?"

"Agent Hill, it's me. We're captured in...Russia, I think. We need a transport out."

"Roger that, Agent. We've already been looking around there, and I have tracked your location to a few miles outside of Moscow. We are near there with a transport ready; Rogers, Barton, Banner and Thor are here also. Keep your transmitter and meet us there, a little less than a mile from your current location, to the east through the forest. Sleep there for a few hours, then come."

"Thank you, Maria," Natasha said, breaking into coughs again.

Tony cut in. "Please have medics ready."

"Will do. I wish you the best of luck."

With that, the radio went dead.

Suddenly, the lights in their cell went dark. It must have been night, and so they were shutting power off. A big facility like this couldn't run without electricity for very long, a few hours at most. Chances were they had completely locked down the place, too, so nobody could get out. So when power turned back on, they'd make their move. For now, though, they needed rest.

"Tony..." Natasha started, fatigue taking her. She gripped his arm, terrified of what sleep might bring.

He understood. "Hey. I'll be here, don't worry. You need to sleep, Nat, I'm really worried about you."

She nodded, slumping over and immediately going unconscious. Tony tightened his grip, like he was afraid she would slip away. And he was, essentially, because he wasn't sure what he would do if something happened to her. He felt like an older brother to her; extremely protective. He hated seeing her hurt.

He shivered yet again, and settled in to wait.


End file.
